


Tomorrow Morning (Not Last Night)

by TimmyJaybird



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Continuity What Continuity, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Latinx Jason, M/M, Post RHATO 25, RedFam, but still in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16136063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Jason has more nightmares than dreams. He's still learning that while they remind him of choices he's made, they don't have to define who he is in the morning.





	Tomorrow Morning (Not Last Night)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a solid 3 months behind on comics and I'm just now starting the process of catching up. And RHatO fucked me up. I needed some JayRoy.
> 
> Just imagine this is like, 2 years or so after RHatO 25. Or something like that. Continuity isn't something I even try to stay canon with.

Throat tight, Jason’s breath caught, dissipated into the burning feeling within his muscles. Gunpowder invaded his nose, made his sinuses scream, his head pound. He kept his eyes gritted shut against it, felt the cracks of his mask in his face, digging into the flesh, bits of metal embedding.

 

The gunpowder was wrong. How could he still smell it?  _ How _ , when he had pulled the trigger an hour ago, or more?  _ How _ ?

 

Dizzy, he stumbled back a step, before pressure burst against his face. The breath he was trying to find was lost again, and he heard that gruff voice,  _ ashamed _ and disappointed,

 

“I once told you, if you ever left, it would be your choice. Not mine.”

 

Gasping, Jason’s eyes snapped open. The room around him was dark. He could barely make out the shapes that were cast in shadows, the heavy curtains keeping out the street lights.

 

He sat up, reaching a hand back to cradle his forehead. It felt like his skull was shrinking in on him. Grimacing, he tossed back the blanket, managed to stand up. He fumbled around in the dark, against the soft sound of breathing, until his hand closed on something that felt like a shirt. He shrugged the well worn button down on and snuck from the room, heading for the stairs.

 

They creaked beneath his weight, but without thought he toed around the  _ trouble steps _ , as they’d been dubbed, to keep the noise down. He made his way to the first floor and turned for the kitchen. He didn’t bother with the light, went straight for the cabinet with the medicine. He popped open a bottle, swallowed two aspirin dry, before he fumbled for a glass.

 

He filled it at the sink, took a few large gulps, tried to will the burn from his throat. It was in his  _ head _ and he knew that, but that didn’t make the memories any easier to swallow. Didn’t erase the choices he’d made.

 

He didn’t call them mistakes. Some of them simply  _ weren’t _ , they were just the unglamorous reality that someone had to create. And, it seemed, it would always be his burden to bear those choices.

 

He set the glass down, kept his hand firmly wrapped around it. It had been  _ years _ since that night. Since he’d put that bullet in Penguin’s head. Since he’d let Bruce down  _ again _ .

 

Since he’d lost Artemis and Bizarro.

 

Jason gritted his teeth. Wounds that felt too fresh blossomed in his chest, and well… it had been a while since the nightmares had lingered like this, after he woke. Not since he’d  _ had _ any, s nightmares, he knew, were a part of his life. Always would be.

 

He just learned to take the mild ones and be happy he could open his eyes the next day and move on. 

 

He contemplated settling in on the couch for the night. He had a paperback eared and left on the coffee table, he could easily finish it before morning. Or even sneaking upstairs for his jeans, and just leaving. Dealing with this shit on his own, coming back when he was in a more presentable state.

 

“Jayjay?”

 

The smallest voice ever stopped him.

 

Jason opened his eyes, left the glass on the counter and turned. In the doorway to the kitchen, standing in the dark and holding the wall with one tiny hand, Lian was looking at him. Despite the dark, he could see her eyes were barely open.

 

She looked so small.

 

“Sorry,” he said, trying to smile for her. “Did I wake you up princess?” Lian yawned but didn’t acknowledge the question. Instead she stumbled into the room slowly. Jason tensed, ready to move if she swerved too far towards the kitchen table and chairs- but she navigated the dark just fine. She walked right over to him, and wordlessly reached her arms up.

 

Jason stooped over and lifted her with ease. He held her to his side, and Lian smacked her lips together. While Roy might have instructed her to  _ use her words _ , Jason wasn’t about to ask a half asleep three year old to verbalize anything when he knew what she wanted.

 

He held her in one arm and turned, grabbed his glass with the other. He held it up as Lian put both hands on it, and steadied it as she took a long drink. When she was done Jason set it in the sink, and reached up, wiping the water off her mouth with his thumb.

 

“Let’s get you back in bed,” he said, “before the  _ monster _ realize you’re out.”

 

Lian pouted, closed her eyes as Jason walked with her. “Silly,” she mumbled, and weather she was saying the monsters were silly or  _ Jason _ was, he didn’t know. But that was alright.

 

At the top of the stairs Jason headed straight for Lian’s room. The door was left open enough for her tiny body to get through, and he pushed it open with his hip. It was brighter in here, a rotating night light casting constellations onto the ceiling gave it life.

 

Jason headed for Lian’s bed and carefully set her in. She wiggled around, and Jason pulled the blanket up, until she was cocooning herself in it. “Need anything?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Alright  _ bonita _ , sleep well.”

 

He stroked her hair back, and Lian smiled, turning to grasp at one of the  _ too many _ stuffed animals she had in her bed. Jason tiptoed out, carefully pulling the door shut behind him. He waited a moment to make sure he didn’t hear her getting up, before he headed back towards the bedroom he’d left only minutes ago, without a thought.

 

He slipped in, but before he could decide if it was i stay or just to find his clothes, one of the bedside lamps clicked on. Jason grimaced, squinting against the light, and was treated to a disheveled Roy, sitting up. His hair was a tangled mess around his face and shoulders, but he was looking  _ awake _ .

 

“Did I wake you, sleeping beauty?” Jason asked, slowly opening his eyes against the light.

 

“Yeah. You hit the top two  _ trouble steps _ .” Jason almost laughed over that, hadn’t paid nearly as much attention when he’d carried Lian back upstairs. “That’s my shirt.”

 

Jason glanced down at the old flannel he’d thrown on- and yeah,  _ definitely _ Roy’s. “Sorry,” he said, reaching up to peel it off, but Roy shook his head.

 

“Like it bothers me. Now get back in bed.” He tossed the blanket down more, and Jason caught a glimpse of one naked, freckled hip. He bit his lip, before he made for the bed, crawling in. He tugged the blanket up, and Roy turned, clicked the lamp back off. Before Jason could do anything else Roy was pulling him down, wrapping his arms around him and settling in.

 

Jason settled on his side, staring at the opposite wall. His eyes were adjusting, despite the quick shock of light Roy had given him. He was looking for something to count, something to occupy him until the sun rose, when he felt Roy’s arm tighten around him.

 

“She didn’t wake you up,” he mumbled, and Jason felt Roy’s lips in his hair. “You have a nightmare?”

 

_ Dammit _ this man had no right to just  _ know _ these things like this.

 

“You thinkin’ about leaving?” Roy wasn’t mad, there wasn’t a hint of much of  _ anything _ in his voice except for adoration and concern. Jason nodded, didn’t see a point in lying. “You know you don’t  _ have _ to. I’ve seen you wrecked, Jaybird. Upset isn’t anything new.”

 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Jason said, “and… what if Lian saw?”

 

“She’s had bad dreams. She’d understand.”

 

Jason shook his head. This still felt… new. All of this. Actually sleeping in a bed with someone at  _ night _ . Thinking that if he disappeared for a week and came back Roy would be exactly as he left him, and they’d pick up where they left off.

 

A  _ relationship _ wasn’t something he’d really tried much of before, or had any luck with. And throw a  _ kid _ into the mix, and it should just be impossible.

 

But… here he was.

 

Instead of answering, Jason simply reached down, found Roy’s hand on his belly and squeezed. Their fingers laced together, and Jason felt flooded in all his senses. He could smell Roy’s cologne on his shirt, but Roy’s shampoo on the pillows- and just  _ Roy _ , from right behind him.

 

It was comforting.

 

“Whatever it was,” Roy said around a yawn, “it’s in the past. Remember Jay, forward, not back.” Jason nodded, focused on the sweet feeling of how Roy fit so perfectly against his back. “It’s tomorrow morning that counts… not last night…”

 

He was falling asleep. Jason didn’t stop him. Instead he listened as his breaths evened out.

 

He  _ could _ leave. Roy would never stop him. Sure, he’d tell Jason he’d  _ like _ for him to stay, but the ultimate decision was always Jason’s.

 

He could go back to the tiny shithole of an apartment he kept and be  _ alone _ and wallow in his aged agony and feel bitter and  _ sorry _ for himself…

 

Or he could risk sleeping. He could try again, and he could wake up with Roy taking up too much of the bed. He could shower slow and lazy with him, could be kissed in ways he never knew were even possible. He could make  _ breakfast _ and listen to Lian  _ laugh _ and just exist, like a regular guy, for a few sweet moments.

 

He could break his damn cycle. He could  _ live _ .

 

Slowly, he inhaled, and then closed his eyes. He focused on the pure darkness behind his eyes, and replayed Roy’s voice in his head.

 

Tomorrow morning counts, not last night.

 

Tomorrow morning… not last night…

 

Not last year…

 

Not  _ two _ years…

 

Not  _ anything _ except what Jason made of himself, when he opened his eyes.


End file.
